


The FBI's Most Unwanted

by kataurah



Category: The 100 (TV), The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Case Fic, Crossover, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mind Control, Romance, Suicide, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, re-post
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:40:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24263728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kataurah/pseuds/kataurah
Summary: Special Agent Abby Griffin was used to people looking at her as though she was crazy, sometimes they outright told her to her face. Fellow agents, witnesses, suspects, even her own daughter, but Abby had learned to brush it off...It was just particularly tiresome to still get it from her partner after a couple of years of working together.
Relationships: Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-post of a fic I previously took down.

FBI Headquarters, Washington DC  
9:34am

Special Agent Abby Griffin was used to people looking at her as though she was crazy, sometimes they outright told her to her face. Fellow agents, witnesses, suspects, even her own daughter, but Abby had learned to brush it off. She couldn't let it hurt her (even though the last one most certainly did), otherwise she would never be able to do her job.

It was just particularly tiresome to still get it from her partner after a couple of years of working together.

"Abby, come on!" Special Agent Marcus Kane ran a hand through his now dishevelled dark hair. He came in every morning with it styled and professional - though less so these days than when she first met him - but usually by midday it was in disarray. Thick brown waves that were longer than they used to be, looked soft and silky to the touch, and were entirely too distracting. He waved a hand at the open file on her desk, "The man is clearly a total whack job. Not to mention his cult of followers for believing him."

"I never said that wasn't a possibility!" Their relationship was nowhere near as antagonistic as it used it be, but God, the man could make her blood boil! Abby forced herself to be calm, "Whether or not you choose to believe that there could be an element of truth to Mr Jaha's story, I think we can agree that his group is involved somehow. A young man is dead. We need to go to West Virginia and figure out what happened."

Marcus tilted his head and looked down at the photograph of the body in the file, and a look of sadness settled on his face for a moment that Abby knew was genuine; despite his past in the Violent Crimes Unit, he still felt things like this as deeply as she did. He was not desensitised as so many other agents would be by now. It was one of the things that made her like and respect him.

"Admittedly I'm not as experienced as you in this area," He said, and she could hear the sardonic edge in his tone already, "But I've never seen an X File where aliens stabbed someone to death."

She _did_ like and respect him, she told herself, it was just days like this that he made it hard for her to remember that. They'd been through too much together for her to give in and punch him in the face now.

So instead she narrowed her eyes and shot him an equally sarcastic smile, "If Jaha says "aliens did it" I'll clap on the cuffs myself, alright?"

He smirked, his eyes twinkling in real amusement, and shrugged on his jacket. He gestured with a hand - _after_ _you_ \- and followed Abby out of their basement office, flipping off the lights and plunging it into darkness.

* * *

They drove to Arkadia, West Virginia, and for the most part, with Marcus behind the wheel, Abby spent it reading the case file over and over again or lost in thought.

She was a woman of science, first and foremost, so she didn't really need Marcus telling her how ludicrous the things she chased day in day out were. The rational part of her mind knew it already. She also knew that she'd seen and experienced things that human science could not explain. And maybe it was easier for her to believe that answers lay in the paranormal than it was for Marcus, even though he'd seen some of the same things as she had, because she _had_ to believe.

For every one of the hundreds, maybe thousands, of accounts that she'd read on alien abduction, every now and then she found one landing in her lap that had too many similarities, too many details that were horribly familiar, for her to not investigate. And Marcus knew it. He knew her well enough by now to know that she read Thelonious Jaha's statement taken by local police, she researched him online, and she felt the weight of Jake's ghost with every word.

They hadn't been partners for very long when she'd told Marcus about Jake; it wasn't even altogether voluntary. He'd been familiarising himself with his new department, the stacks of files that she kept on record, filling up the cabinets and gathering dust. She should have thought to remove Jake's file before he went poking around...

"You're quiet," Marcus observed, breaking her out of her reverie.

Abby looked over at him: it was a beautiful day and despite the regulation government attire, Marcus was wearing sunglasses, his shirtsleeves rolled up, and his hair blowing in the breeze that filtered through the open window. The man's attractiveness was frankly unfair, given that behind his handsome features lay a keen intellect as well.

"I was just thinking," She replied, and Marcus gave her a look that implied he knew exactly where her thoughts had been. He was almost as familiar with Jake's file as Abby was at this point. She decided to derail any intervention forthcoming; she was familiar with Marcus' well-meaning yet somewhat condescending comments about making a case personal. "This statement from a supposed witness..."

"John Murphy didn't actually see what happened."

"But he's spoken up condemning Jaha. Why?"

"I suppose we'll find out, won't we?" He gave her a sort of half shrug, as much as he could manage with his hands on the steering wheel, "Personal grudge, perhaps? Or maybe Jaha is more dangerous than just a crazy guy peddling a bullshit story that people are buying into?"

Abby frowned, "Money doesn't seem to have anything to do with it. He calls it the City of Light." Once again, she flipped through the images she'd taken from Jaha's website: a congregation gathered to hear Jaha speak, the man himself gesticulating on stage, random members looking blank and serene, an infinity symbol... "It's like a church or -"

"A cult?" Marcus cut in, glancing over, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Abby couldn't help but return it briefly, before her eyes dropped to the photograph taken by the coroner's office,  
of the young man who had been found dead in a field nearby to where the City of Light had taken over and renovated an old barn house as their centre of practice.

Jasper Jordan had been only twenty years old and, by all accounts, severely depressed. His blood alcohol level had been 0.3 at the time of his death, also showing evidence of having taken other substances in the days beforehand. Scars of varying age marred his arms, but three deep, open stab wounds stood out darkly on his chest; they, of course, had never had the chance to heal over.

"So even though they've concluded that the _probable_ cause of death is suicide," Abby said, "Murphy still blames Jaha." _Why_ the boy - who claimed to merely be an acquaintance of Jordan's from high school - blamed him though was unclear.

"The report is annoyingly vague," Marcus said, unknowingly echoing her thoughts, "But you see the similarities with the other death." It wasn't phrased as a question; Marcus knew she'd gone over the file thoroughly.

The other death linked to Jaha and his flock - that of a young girl named Maya Vie from Cambridge, Ohio - had been unquestionably pronounced a suicide. She'd been an actual member of the City of Light, and was discovered in the front seat of her car, inside the garage of her parents' house, with the engine running: carbon monoxide poisoning. It was enough to get the bureau involved though when the second body dropped over in the neighbouring state.

"Arkadia is Jaha's hometown, right?" Marcus asked, and she nodded an affirmative, "What was he doing in Ohio?"

"They travel," Abby said absently, frowning down at the picture of Maya Vie; she never could stop herself from thinking about her daughter whenever the victim happened to be a young girl. Maya would have been Clarke's age. She felt a familiar ache in her chest, missing her, wondering what she was doing now... No, those thoughts were reserved for sleepless nights and long weekends when she felt her absence the most. She focused on Marcus' question, "They recruit members all over the country, but they're based in Arkadia."

"It'll be interesting to see what the rest of the town thinks of them," Marcus said, "Whether they're all like Mr Murphy, or if they're a bit more tolerant."

"Either way, someone will know something," Abby mused; her partner shot her a questioning look. "Small towns, Marcus. Everybody knows everybody's business."

* * *

  
Police Station, Arkadia, West Virgina  
3:40pm

  
It was refreshing at least to not be greeted with territorial hostility from the local sheriff's department when they arrived.

"Look, I get why they called you in," Sheriff Pike said, after he greeted them in his office in what seemed to be a genuinely friendly manner, "I'm not going to get in the way. Anything I can do to help, really."

"We appreciate that, Sheriff," Abby said, diplomatically, watching Marcus obviously (to her, at least) trying to get the measure of the man from the corner of her eye.

"I think you'll find people more willing to co-operate with a familiar face, though," Pike continued, "You go flashing your badges around, I'm not sure it'll do any good."

"Well, if that were the case, you'd have wrapped this up yourselves, wouldn't you?" Marcus pointed out, bluntly, and Abby had to resist the urge to kick him. She watched Pike clench his jaw, but in the end he only nodded,

"Then I defer to you, Agents."

Abby wasn't sure if she imagined the derisive edge with which he uttered their status or not, but she offered a smile nonetheless,

“This is your town and you know your people, Sheriff. I'm sure you have much more to say about Thelonious Jaha and Jasper Jordan than we will have read in the case file.”

Thankfully, this seemed to appease Pike and he nodded, Not much to say about the Jordan kid, to be honest,” Pike grimaced and looked suitably regretful, “He and his best friend Monty Green have been known for stirring up trouble in the past,” This didn't sound like nothing to Abby, but off her look Pike hastened to add: “Mischief, more like; pranks, you know? Kid stuff.” They nodded and he continued, “Not sure what happened, but he got depressed. I've had to take him home once or twice when I found him wandering the streets drunk or high, but I wasn't about to arrest the kid for that when his own head was giving him enough trouble.” He paused, and seemed to wrestle with his next words, “Maybe if I had... Would it have made him think twice before getting in that state again? I dunno...”

Abby knew how easy it was to fall into a pit of self-doubt, to wonder if one could have done something differently to prevent a tragedy, but she also thought Pike showed a remarkable sensitivity to Jasper's struggles.

“Do you think he killed himself?” Marcus asked, his tone softer now, perhaps considering the Sheriff in the same light as she was, as well as the delicate subject matter.

“I think it's definitely possible,” Pike sighed, “The knife was left there with just his prints on...”

Abby and Marcus nodded; it had all been in the file.

“And what about Mr Jaha? Is there any connection between him and Jasper Jordan that might lend credence to John Murphy's accusations?”

“Jaha's an odd one, there's no denying that.” Abby glanced at Marcus and had to fight amusement when he raised an eyebrow, “We both grew up in this town, but I don't think I could say I _know_ him...” Pike looked uneasy, “What he says happened to him... I can't really comment on since he was never reported missing. No one to miss him, I guess. He lost his son several years back and I know his marriage fell apart because of it.”

Abby frowned, feeling a well of sympathy rise for Thelonious Jaha; what happened to Jake was bad enough, she didn't even want to imagine the pain of losing a child. She supposed, given these circumstances, Jaha could hardly be blamed if his abduction _was_ all in his head, as Marcus believed. But his account, not just the bright light but the sinister presence, the feeling of helplessness creeping over his paralysed body, was far too real for Abby, and she had yet to even meet the man.

“His church, his followers...” Pike continued, “It may be unorthodox, but he seems to have found some peace. I'm not sure I'm in a position to judge any of them if it helps them.”

“Unless whatever it is they're _doing_ is harmful to others.” Marcus said, darkly, and Pike could only nod in acquiescence.

“Sheriff, did you know that a girl associated with the City of Light died in Cambridge, Ohio?” Abby asked, and Pike nodded.

“I found out when I asked why they were calling the FBI in on this. But...” He looked between them, “The girl killed herself.”

“Still, she was a member of the City of Light, and now we have John Murphy saying that Mr Jaha was involved in another death.”Abby said.

“I don't think you should give much weight to what Mr Murphy says -”

“I think we should decide for ourselves,” Marcus said, and Abby could read in his tone that he was bringing the conversation to a close; together they stood, “I think it's time Agent Griffin and I made Thelonious Jaha's acquaintance.”

* * *

  
The Church of the City of Light, Arkadia  
4.55pm

  
Abby found Jaha to be quite unnerving. He wore a calm, placid facade that seemed devoid of any emotion. Other than perhaps pride.

“It's a shame you missed my sermon,” He said, with what Abby thought was intended to be a smile; for some reason it made her skin crawl, “We've grown to over two hundred people now, many of whom joined as soon as they heard me speak.”

“Well we're speaking to you right now, Mr Jaha, perhaps you can _dazzle_ us whilst answering a few of our questions.” Marcus' sarcasm could not be missed, but Jaha remained expressionless.

“Of course.”

“Are you familiar with either Jasper Jordan or John Murphy?” Abby asked, observing Jaha closely, searching for any hint of recognition in his eyes; it was like looking into those of a shark though, dark and empty.

“Jasper Jordan was the local boy recently found dead, I believe?” Jaha said, “I was sorry to hear about that.” He didn't sound particularly sorry in Abby's opinion. “We could have helped him, you know. The City of Light is a place of healing.”

“I wasn't aware that you were a doctor, Mr Jaha.” Abby couldn't help herself, but the man gave an impression of detachment and superiority over everyone and everything that grated on her nerves. It especially annoyed her as a doctor when people made grand proclamations about healing when they had no experience or training.

“Healing of the soul.” Jaha replied, and Abby tried not to roll her eyes: _of course_. “I can't say I recognise the other name: John Murphy?”

“John Murphy is the young man who told the police that you had a hand in Mr Jordan's death.” Marcus said, and Jaha tilted his head as if mulling this over. He didn't seem shocked or outraged, he didn't rush to deny it, he merely remained as calm as ever.

“It was a suicide though, wasn't it?” Abby wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement.

“That remains to be seen.” Marcus replied, curtly. Abby noticed the tension in her partner's frame, the clench of his jaw, and knew he disliked the other man as much as she did. Jaha's composure was frustrating him, so Abby decided to try a different tactic.

“Why is it called the City of Light?” She asked, raising her hands and gesturing at the plain, utilitarian space they stood in. There was a stage, from which Jaha presumably delivered his sermons or speeches, and several rows of fold out chairs, currently empty. The only extravagance was a huge (rather garish, in Abby's opinion) lit infinity symbol suspended at the back of the stage area.

“Oh, this,” Jaha looked around, “This isn't the City of Light.”

“It's not?” Abby frowned.

"No, the City of Light is in here,” He tapped his temple with his finger, “We all carry it with us.”

Abby supposed that wasn't so strange; people of any religion would say that their God or Gods were with them all the time, not just when they entered a particular building to worship. She was trying to keep an open mind, since this man claimed to have similar experiences to her own, but she could practically feel Marcus' skepticism radiating from him.

“And how did it come to be?” She asked, determined to reach some understanding about this man.

“They told me about it,” Jaha smiled his empty smile again, “and then they returned me to spread the word of it. To turn people's minds toward the light.”

“ _They?”_ Marcus asked before Abby could.

Jaha gave him a haughty look, “Come now, Agents, you must have read my story before you came to talk to me today.”

_They_ meaning the beings he claimed to have made contact with him, then. “You're referring to your abduction.” Abby stated.

Jaha nodded, “At first I was haunted by the experience. I only remembered bits and pieces. Being in my bed and waking suddenly to a blinding light. The feeling of weightlessness, of pain here,” He touched his temple again, “and here.” The back of his neck. “There were many voices but no distinct words, the heavy sensation of being watched... like being observed under a microscope. I don't know how much time passed but then suddenly I woke up in a field several miles from my house. This field, in fact, near this barn.”

Did Jake go through the same terrifying ordeal? Why then was Jaha returned alive and unscathed, whilst Jake's body was dumped in a ditch for her to find? Was this man given his life, changed and enlightened, only to murder children, whilst her husband, a _good_ man, was robbed of his future and his family left bereft? Abby could feel the familiar grief and anger at the injustice of it all rising up like a wave, ready to drown her once more.

“It's quite a story.” Marcus was saying, but he sounded far away, and Abby struggled to focus on the conversation as it continued.

“I have no evidence for what happened to me,” Jaha said, “Except for this.” He reached inside his shirt and revealed a small, hexagonal piece of metal with an infinity sign engraved. “It was implanted at the base of my neck and removed by doctors when I insisted on a medical exam after my encounter.” He tucked it back inside his clothing, though Abby was itching to examine it more closely. “Even though I had it removed, I keep it close. It still seems to function as my connection to Alie.”

“Alie?” Marcus asked, and Abby felt him step closer to her, his hand brushing the small of her back.

“My abductor,” Jaha said, and for the first time there was emotion in his tone: fondness, “Her name is Alie.” He seemed to have noticed how Abby was wrestling with her emotions, and Marcus' protectiveness, “You seem upset, Agent Griffin. Did something happen to you, too?”

Meeting his probing gaze, Abby felt a shudder run through her, and in the silence that followed, all three of them heard shuffling footsteps. Turning, Abby saw a young woman, slim, with dark hair and large brown eyes, lingering by the doorway. Most noticeably, she was leaning on a cane and appeared to have a brace of some kind strapped to her left leg. She looked nervous.

“Raven!” Jaha called in greeting, “Is there something I can help you with?"

“Sorry,” Raven said, and she smiled in a way that seemed forced to Abby, “I just left my jacket behind.” She held up a red bomber jacket and waved it at them.

“One of our congregation,” Jaha informed them, “If you'll excuse me.”

As he made his escape from any further questioning, Abby could have sworn Raven shot her a look of urgency, before turning her attention back to Jaha.

“Are you okay?” Marcus asked, quietly, hovering in concern at her shoulder; Abby could feel the warmth of his palm still at her back.

“I really don't like that man.” She replied, unable to shake the unsettled feeling their conversation with Jaha had left her with.

“No,” Marcus agreed, “We still know nothing about what he's doing here, with all these people.”

Whatever is was, Abby was sure it was nothing good.


	2. Chapter 2

Polaris Motor Lodge, Arkadia  
2:06am

_Right on schedule,_ Marcus thought, sadly, as Abby's soft, distressed cries filtered through the adjoining door of their motel rooms. It was almost as unnerving as it was upsetting to hear her, since it always happened around 2am, like her body was reliving the experience over and over again down to the exact time of night that Jake disappeared. It didn't happen every night, and, of course, many nights Marcus wasn't close by enough to hear her, instead several doors away, or across town in his own apartment, lying awake and wondering if Abby was in the midst of another nightmare or if she would be blessedly spared that night.

That was clearly not the case now.

Marcus had probably read Jake Griffin's case file a hundred times, trying to lend Abby a fresh set of eyes, trying to delve into the mind of someone who would have the means and motive to abduct a fully grown man from his home in the middle of the night. But there was no way to build up a clear profile when the only witness could not give a detailed testimony. By her own admission, Abby's memories of that night were hazy; she'd been paralysed by fear and confusion, and blinded by a bright light. Marcus didn't have to tell her that it was possible that she'd repressed what had happened, because it was too horrifying or painful, Abby had come to that conclusion herself years before he'd met her. After Jake turned up dead in New Mexico with no explanation and no clear cause of death, Abby grew obsessed in her pursuit of the truth of what had happened.

Which was how she'd left medicine, joined the bureau, and found the X Files.

Marcus knew she wasn't crazy; hell, he'd come to respect and admire her too much to ever think that of her. More than that, he _knew_ her. They relied on each other as any partners should, perhaps more so. With her daughter away at college, trying to build herself a life rather than chasing ghosts like her mother, Abby had quietly and tiredly confessed to him more than once that he was the _only_ one she trusted anymore. Marcus wholeheartedly returned the sentiment. After everything they'd seen together, the things even he couldn't explain away, and the number of times key evidence had simply vanished into the ether, he knew by now that their department wasn't such a joke to the higher ups as people thought.

That wasn't to say that he believed Thelonious Jaha was abducted by aliens and left with otherworldly powers.

In the other room, Abby cried out again and Marcus winced, caught, as always, with indecision. Their partnership already walked a fine line sometimes between professional and personal, and he always held back when it came to Abby's nightmares, not wanting to invade her privacy, especially in such a moment of weakness. But when he heard _his_ name being called, something she'd never said before in his hearing – Jake's, of course, and Clarke's, but never his – he could not stop himself from crossing that threshold and going to her.

The room was dark and still, but for Abby's twitching form in the middle of the bed, legs tangled in the sheets, the moonlight shining through the window and revealing the lines of distress on her face. Marcus loved that face. He was never blind to her beauty - from the very beginning he'd been captivated by it – but that was before he'd learned to read her. Before he knew her expressions: the fire that caught in her eyes when she was pursuing a lead in a case, the questioning arch of her eyebrow, the amused quirk of her lips. Marcus knew the lines on her face that told of her ordeal with Jake and how she worried for Clarke, but he also treasured the small laughter lines, the crinkles in the corners of her eyes when he managed to draw a laugh out of her.

Marcus knew her face, which was why, after she whimpered his name once more, when he crouched down by her head and murmured, “Abby,” touching her shoulder, he could see right through the brave face she tried to put on when she startled into wakefulness. She tensed under his hand and her eyes shot open, meeting his across the mattress. He felt pinned in place as they flickered over him, taking in his position, before widening when she realised what must have drawn him to her bedside in the middle of the night. She sucked in a breath and her lips became a firm line for a moment: trying to close herself off.

“Marcus...”

“It's alright.”

“I'm sorry if I woke you -”

“I wasn't asleep. Abby,” His hand still rested on her arm, bare as she wore only a tank top and shorts to sleep in, and he drew his thumb back and forth over her skin in what he hoped was a soothing gesture. “I always hear you.”

He said it quietly, gently, but Abby's face still crumpled in horror and embarrassment,

“Oh God...” She sat up and tried to withdraw from his touch, but Marcus tilted forward onto his knees, keeping a hold of her and reached out to take one of her hands with his free one.

“No, Abby, I told you, it's okay. Please don't shut me out.” She was looking down at their joined hands, partially hiding behind her curtain of hair, falling in a dark mess of sleep-dishevelled curls. Marcus didn't think he'd ever seen her look so exposed and vulnerable, and he hated that she seemed to be shrinking under his gaze. “Hey,” His hand left her shoulder, instead moving to comb a finger through those soft waves, brushing them away from her face and tucking it behind her ear, “It's just me.”

She let out a choked sob at that and clutched at his hand like it was a lifeline, “Why did you wake me up tonight?” She whispered, no hint of accusation, just tentatively curious.

“Hmm?” Marcus continued rubbing his thumb over the round of her shoulder.

“If you always hear me, why did you come in this time?”

Marcus swallowed around the sudden dryness in his throat; he had to be honest, “Because... you called my name.”

Her eyes glistened in the moonlight, and her breath hitched, “Oh...” Her voice was so small and unsure, and Marcus felt an ache building in his chest; he wished he could wrap her in his arms and hold her properly, but that was not something they did casually. Abby being in bed would make it all the more intimate and therefore dangerous.

“These dreams you have... They're about the night Jake was taken?” It was a forgone conclusion and he knew he didn't really have to ask, but Abby nodded, looking down at their hands again.

“It used to be the same thing, that exact night, or what I could remember of it,” She whispered, “But then, after a while, details changed. Some nights I would lose Clarke, sometimes the presence in the room was the shadows of faceless government men. And then, when I realised how much I needed you,” Her eyes drifted to his once more and a tear escaped down her cheek, “How much I'd come to depend on you, trust you...”

“Then I started appearing in those dreams.” Marcus finished, his own voice hushed and tight with emotion. He was stunned that he even meant that much to her. He'd long stopped pretending that he was still trying to carry out his initial directive of debunking the X Files department when he'd been assigned as her partner. Frankly he'd stopped pretending that there was nothing he wouldn't do to protect her and help her in any way he could.

“I started losing you in those dreams.” She corrected, her voice wavering as she fought to keep her composure, even as more tears spilled over.

“Abby...” He didn't know what else to say as that ache in his chest became almost painful and his own eyes burned with the threat of tears. He never could have foreseen what they had become to one another; they were each other's touchstone as they got lost chasing mysteries and monsters in the darkness. He cupped her cheek with one shaking hand and tried to brush away her tears with his thumb.

“I can't lose you, Marcus,” She said, with more strength in her voice than he'd heard since she woke up. Then she smiled, beautiful and broken, “You're the only thing that keeps me sane.”

A breath of laughter escaped him; she had no idea how she'd saved _him_ , “I think you're stronger than you think.”

“Maybe I'm tired of being strong.” Abby sighed and looked at him as though she was weighing a decision in her mind.

“You don't have to be,” Marcus said, “Not with me.”

That drew a smile, small and tired, but genuine. “Marcus...” She took a deep breath, “Could you just... stay here? Could you maybe hold me until I fall asleep?”

She looked so nervous, worried that she'd crossed a line (apparently they were both crossing all sorts of lines tonight) and Marcus nodded, perhaps too eagerly, wanting to assuage her worries. She didn't know that she was giving him permission to do the thing he'd longed for since he entered the room and saw her being tormented in her sleep.

“Of course.”

She tugged on his hand then, and he climbed up to sit on the edge of the bed, feeling nervous himself and wondering how exactly she wanted to do this. But Abby smiled and rolled her eyes a little, then turned onto her side with her back to him, pulling his arm over her as she did so, and Marcus let himself lie down on top of the covers, mimicking her position, and curled his body around hers. She felt so warm and small in his arms, and Marcus already found himself wishing that they could sleep like this always, that maybe this way he could keep her safe and her nightmares at bay. Abby sighed, settling down; she bought their joined hands up to rest her lips on his knuckles and for a moment Marcus stopped breathing.

Partners did not do this, he thought. _Friends_ didn't do this, but he couldn't bring himself to care or question it right now. He knew that he wouldn't be leaving once she fell asleep, that he would stay and watch over her and be damned whether or not he got any sleep himself.

Minutes of quiet passed and just as he thought perhaps she'd drifted off, Abby spoke again, quietly

“Marcus?”

“Mmm?”

“It was Jaha. In my dream. It was Jaha taking you away from me.”

Marcus said nothing, but tightened his hold on her, breathing in the scent of her hair and trying to ignore the quiet sense of dread stirring in his gut.

* * *

  
Green Residence, Arkadia  
10.28am

Monty Green looked very much like a young man in mourning. Dark rings beneath his eyes contrasted starkly with pale skin, and he sat hunched in on himself in the chair across from where Marcus and Abby observed him from the sofa. His mother, Hannah, brought in cups of tea from the kitchen and set them down in front of them before seating herself next to her son, a clear unspoken statement that she would not be leaving him alone with the FBI.

“Jasper was my best friend,” Monty told them in a tremulous voice, “I knew he was struggling and I left for university anyway.”

He grimaced in a way that told Marcus he was clearly blaming himself, that if he'd been home perhaps he could've stopped whatever happened to his friend. _Poor kid._

“You're not being fair on yourself,” He said, gently, “You had a good reason for being away. You said you're at university? What are you studying?”

“Computer science.” Hannah said, obviously proud of her son.

“Smart man,” Marcus smiled, “Were you supposed to put your own life on hold to help Jasper?”

Monty frowned, “I... I just should've been there for him.”

“This isn't your fault, Monty.” Abby leaned towards the young man (initiating eye contact, Marcus knew) and smiled reassuringly. She was always so good at that, forging a connection with her natural warmth and empathy. “Did you and Jasper message each other frequently whilst you were away? Text?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I tried to check in every day, even if it wasn't a whole conversation. _God_ ,” He covered his face with his hands for a moment, “This is just so insane that I'm here talking to the feds about Jasper dying. Jasper being _murdered_. He's gone and it doesn't seem real, you know?”

Marcus nodded, as he knew Abby did too, because he _did_ know that deep sense of wrongness that came with the death of a loved one. The feeling that there was a hole in universe where that person ought to be. Monty was still talking, and Marcus could tell they were losing his focus,

“Every memory I have, there's Jasper. I never thought he was capable of doing this...”

“Monty,” Marcus said, a little too sharply perhaps, but it brought his attention back to them, “Did Jasper ever mention Thelonious Jaha to you?”

“What, the crazy alien guy?” In the corner of his eye, Marcus saw Abby flinch and had to suppress the urge to reach for her hand, “The last couple of messages I had from him he was talking about Maya... Said Maya was dead, I _think?_ They were hard to read, I'm pretty sure he was drunk -”

“Wait, Maya? Maya Vie?” Marcus interrupted, glancing at Abby to find his shock mirrored on her face, “Jasper knew Maya Vie?”

“Y-Yeah?” Monty looked between them, “She was kind of his long-distance girlfriend? They met online.”

“Pike said he didn't know the cause of Jasper's sudden spiral into depression,” Marcus said to Abby, leaning in close, and the look in her eyes told him that she was on the same page.

“Sheriff Pike?” Monty asked, obviously trying to connect the dots himself, “Are you saying Maya's really dead too?”

“About a month ago,” Abby confirmed, “She was a member of the City of Light, Mr Jaha's -”

“Cult.” Monty finished for her, a dark expression on his face. “And you're saying Jasper got involved with that crazy shit too?”

“We're not sure of the extent of his involvement,” Abby said, “Only that John Murphy has accused Mr Jaha of being responsible -”

“ _Murphy?_ ” Monty was becoming visibly upset and confused, “What the hell does Murphy know _or_ care?”

“Monty,” Marcus watched Abby lean even closer; she had a gift of sounding soothing without coming across as condescending, He knew was because she was always sincere in situations like this, “Whatever happened to Jasper, we're going to figure it out, okay?” Monty searched her face for a moment, before he apparently decided to trust her intent and the agitation left him. “Okay,” Abby repeated; a confirmation, “So I take it Mr Murphy isn't a friend of yours or Jasper?”

“He went to school with us,” Monty muttered, “But he was always an asshole.”

“Monty!” His mother admonished, but her son just held his hands up.

“He _was_.”

“So you don't know why he's getting involved or speaking out against Jaha?” Marcus asked.

Monty just shrugged, lines of misery creeping into his face again, “Guess I've been out of the loop if Murphy's suddenly Jasper's friend. But Jaha always gave me the creeps.”

Marcus couldn't argue with that, “Where might we find Mr Murphy?”

“He tends bar down at Emori's. Um, _Nomads_ , it's a bar down town. Emori is his girlfriend. She's cool.”

“Thank you, Monty.” Abby smiled, all compassion, and Marcus nodded, getting to his feet; it had only been a brief conversation, but he'd decided he liked the young man, and hoped that he wouldn't carry the guilt that was plaguing him for a long time to come.

Outside the sun was shining, making the honey strands of Abby's hair, tied into a sensible bun, shine like spun gold. He remembered the comforting smell of it last night, and when he woke up this morning, apparently having managed to catch a few hours of sleep. He suspected that was due to having Abby in his arms, the feeling of her body cradled against his own calming his mind enough for him to drift off. He'd slipped out of bed before she'd woken, hoping to avoid any awkwardness. But Abby hadn't shown any sign of being uncomfortable when she greeted him after they'd both showered and dressed for the day. She'd smiled, making his heart leap foolishly, and thanked him for being there for her.

“Anytime.” He'd said, then winced at the implication, “I mean -”

She'd laughed delightfully, laid a hand on his arm, “I know, Marcus.”

Now she looked sad, “Maybe Jasper did kill himself. Maybe he thought he was following Maya. God, they were just _kids_ , Marcus.” He wanted to take her in his arms again, but he knew that Abby Griffin wasn't a woman who needed coddling or protecting. This part of the job never got any easier, but she would handle it, just as he did.

“John Murphy is the only one who seems to think otherwise, let's go talk to him.”

Abby nodded, then a little good humour returned to her face, her eyes dancing as they met his,

“Pub lunch, partner?”


	3. Chapter 3

Nomads Bar, Arkadia  
12.12pm

“''Bout time you guys showed up, isn't it?” Was the first thing John Murphy said after Abby and Marcus had approached the bar asking for him and showing their badges. “Pike took my statement like a week ago.”

“This case only just came under the FBI's jurisdiction, Mr Murphy.” Marcus said as he pulled out a bar stool for Abby. She swore he was doing it on purpose, sitting up here rather than at a regular table, because he'd teased her before about having to practically hop onto the stool and how far her “little legs” dangled off the ground.

Abby sat down with as much dignity as possible, avoiding Marcus' eye and instead surveying her surroundings. Despite it pretty much looking like any other small town bar – with it's regular afternoon patrons already gazing silently and morosely at the bottom of their glasses, it's jukebox, it's pool table and dart board – _Nomads_ actually had quite a nice atmosphere. It wasn't too murky, enough light shone in through the windows to light up the interior, and the walls and surfaces were clean. John Murphy eyed them suspiciously as he wiped down the bar.

“Why's that?” He asked, “Did something else happen?”

“We're not at liberty to discuss details on an ongoing investigation.” Marcus said, and for a moment he sounded like his old self; the man who'd walked into her basement office three years ago, wielding rules and regulations like a stick was shoved up his ass.

“Pfft, whatever,” Murphy rolled his eyes and Abby decided she liked him, “It wouldn't surprise me if Jaha talked some other poor depressed kid into offing themselves.”

That got Abby's attention, “ _Talked_ into killing themselves?” Murphy nodded, he seemed deadly serious, “That's what you're saying happened to Jasper Jordan?”

“You've talked to Jaha, right?” Murphy asked, and off their confirmation: “Don't tell me you weren't creeped out by the guy. Have you seen him with his followers?”

“No, we haven't seen a meeting, yet.”

“Well, until you do, you're gonna think I'm crazy.”

Abby leant her elbows on the bar, interlocking her fingers, “Why don't you try me? I've got a pretty open mind.”

Murphy regarded her; he was clearly still wary of them both. “It's like... he has those people under hypnosis or something. Jaha talks and they just... they're like drones.”

“Mind control?” Abby asked, her own mind spinning with theories and details from case files on psychic ability, going back years.

“I know how it sounds, but I saw Jasper that day. He came in here and he was... he looked way worse than usual, and that's saying something. We weren't exactly friends, but we talked sometimes. He kept saying stuff like “he's in my head”, “you can't do this, you can't make me”, it was like he was having an argument with himself.” Abby looked over at Marcus to see his face pinched in sadness. She knew he was already thinking mental illness. Murphy continued with his story, “He was getting really upset and freaking people out, so I tried to calm him down, convince him to just go home, you know? Then, just before he leaves, he leans over the bar, grabs my shirt and says: “No matter what he says, Thelonious Jaha is dangerous.” Then he's out the door, gone.”

“And that was the last time you saw him?” Abby asked, but to her surprise, Murphy shook his head.

“I asked Emori if I could go after him, make sure he got home okay. I didn't get far before I saw Jasper. Jaha was talking to him and Jasper's face was just... blank. He didn't look scared or upset anymore. When I got closer all I heard Jaha say was “can you do that for me?” and he put a hand on Jasper's shoulder. Then, when Jasper nodded, he just walked away. I asked Jasper if he was okay, and he said he had to “cut it out.” He was calm. Totally different to the guy who'd been hearing voices a couple minutes ago. He left and I could still hear him muttering “cut it out, cut it out” to himself. I thought he meant like he had to stop doing what he'd been doing. I thought... fuck, I didn't think he meant it _literally_...” Murphy shook his head, looking weary. “He seemed okay.” He finished in a quiet, regretful voice.

Abby could follow his reasoning, even if it seemed a little crazy, as Murphy had said; it was her job after all. Even if Jaha hadn't wielded the knife himself, it seemed he was at least partially responsible for Jasper's state of mind before he died.

“So you're saying that Jaha _willed_ Jasper to kill himself?” Abby said, carefully, and Murphy shrugged,

“I know how it sounds.”

Before anyone could say anything else, the door flew open, hitting the wall hard, and the girl they'd seen at Jaha's church the day before – Raven – barged into the bar, limping as quickly as possible without her cane. Her face was deathly pale and she was clutching her bloodied wrist.

The doctor in Abby immediately flew into action, and she was off her stool and yanking off her jacket, wrapping it around the girl's wrist and elevating it before anyone else even reacted.

“Raven, what the _hell?_ ”

“Fuck off, Murphy!” Raven spat, turning her attention back to Abby; her dark eyes were wild, “I heard you were in here.”

“ _You_ should be in a hospital,” Abby exclaimed, “What happened?”

She felt Marcus approach, looking over her shoulder as she cautiously risked a look at Raven's wound. She couldn't help wincing when she saw the long, straight incision down the length of Raven's wrist, from which blood was still pumping, and covered it again quickly. Raven had her eyes screwed shut now, shaking her head as if to rid herself of something buzzing around it.

“ _Shut up!_ ” She muttered through clenched teeth.

“Hey,” Abby tried to get her attention again, “Raven? Raven, did you do this to yourself?” The girl made a noise of frustration and clapped her free hand over an ear. “Marcus, phone for an ambulance?” Her partner tore his concerned gaze away from the young woman and nodded, digging his phone out of his pocket. “ _Raven?_ ” Abby tried again, a little louder.

“It's not me!” Raven yelled, finally opening bloodshot eyes again, “I didn't want to! He's in my head! He's in here with me!”

“Wow, deja vu all over again.” Murphy muttered behind them, but when Abby cast an annoyed look his way, he too was watching Raven worriedly.

“I'm not crazy!” Raven grasped Abby's arm, desperate, “He said he could help... My leg. The pain in my leg. He said he could make it stop.”

“Who said, Raven?” Abby kept saying her name, hoping to ground her in reality; she knew very well who Raven was talking about – they all did – but she needed to hear his name.

“ _Jaha_ ,” Raven hissed venomously, “He said there was peace in the City of Light, but he _controls_ you! I don't know how, but he does! He gets off on it. And when I tried to break away, when I tried to drown out his voice...”

“He made you do this.” Abby murmured, and Raven looked at her with hopeful, tear-filled eyes.

“I think he killed Jasper...” She choked out, so upset and horrified and overwhelmed that Abby drew her into her arms and Raven let her.

They needed to bring Jaha in to question him thoroughly, but Abby wondered how they were supposed to hold him if he possessed these powers? They could only try, no matter how frightening she found the prospect of Jaha taking control against her will. What if she ended up pointing her gun at herself? Even worse, at _Marcus?_

"We need to go pick him up, Abby," Marcus murmured to her, having finished his 911 call, echoing her thoughts. "Whatever his extent of influence on these kids is, it's obviously harmful."

She was glad he could see that at least, whether or not he believed that Jaha had literally invaded their minds. Abby felt determination settle over her: no more kids were going to be terrorised by this man. She nodded to her partner, then turned back to where Murphy was frozen at the bar looking tense.

"John?" He started slightly and met her eye, "Can you look after Raven until the ambulance gets here?"

"I don't need _him_ looking after me -" Raven started to argue, but Abby cut her off.

"You need to be watched," She said firmly, fixing the younger woman with her best 'do not argue with your doctor' look. "I know you understand that." Raven relented, unhappily, "Good." She turned back to Murphy, "Make that clear to the paramedics, too."

"Got it." He was looking at Raven nervously, as though she might suddenly explode, and Abby supposed she couldn't blame him for that, but there seemed to be some kind of history there between them. Well they'd just have to get past that in order for Raven to remain safe.

"Keep that arm elevated," She said to her, then turned to Marcus, "Let's go."

Marcus probably broke the speed limit driving over to the City of Light church, but Abby was hardly about to chastise him. His silence was telling though; she knew his rational arguments were on the tip of his tongue, but perhaps the delicacy of the issue - these kid's mental health - was stopping him from being quite so direct as he usually was.

Finally Abby sighed, "I know what you're going to say."

Marcus seemed relieved that she'd broken the silence,

"Abby, I'm sorry, but it's not just me. A jury will need a bit more than just: Jaha put the whammy on them."

She fought her amusement as she answered, "You want to know the scientific nature of the whammy."

"It would be a good start, yeah."  
"This is the point where science can no longer explain it, Marcus. I _wish_ it could. It would make the things we've seen groundbreaking as opposed to just insane."

"I don't think you're insane," He said quietly, seriously, and his faith in her made warmth bloom in her chest.

"I know." She said, looking over at him and hoping he could read the depth of feeling she tried to put into those two words. She thought maybe he did when he offered her a brief glance and a warm smile.

He stopped the car outside the field gate, noticing other cars parked there.

"They're having a meeting." Abby said, a sense of trepidation hanging over her. "If Jaha can control them like Murphy said..."

"Even if he can't, they're unlikely to stand by whilst we arrest their leader."

"We could end up pointing our guns at each other." Abby almost whispered, voicing her worst fears aloud.

"Hey," Marcus turned his body fully in the car seat to look at her intently, reaching out to cover her hands, fidgeting in her lap, with one of his own, "That's not going to happen. I don't care what Jaha can do, there's no force on earth that could make me turn on you."

Abby wanted to touch his face, trace those features that were so dear to her now: those warm brown eyes that she couldn't believe she used to find hard and cold; the arch of his nose, his stubble covered jaw that told her he'd neglected to shave that morning. His hair was rebelling once again, one stubborn curl falling over his forehead, and Abby wanted to bury her fingers in those silky looking curls. She wanted to kiss those lips that were currently quirked in a lop sided smile that made him look adorably boyish and shy. These were not new thoughts, and so Abby was used to keeping them under control, settling on turning her hand beneath his and squeezing with a reassuring smile of her own.

"Okay." She breathed.

The silence as they approached the barn was oppressive; Abby felt as though they would hear them coming from their footsteps alone, even though they whispered quietly through the grass. Why could they not hear anyone? Where were all the people whose cars were parked beyond the gate?

The door was open invitingly, and Abby's stomach was churning with the increasing certainty that she and Marcus was somehow walking into a trap. She took comfort in the weight of her service weapon, tucked at the small of her back. What they saw when they entered, Abby found disconcerting.

The congregation was entirely silent; eyes closed, facing the empty stage, it was as though over a hundred people were all stood breathing in unison. Jaha was no where to be seen, and Abby looked at Marcus, who was frowning, eyes flitting around the room, equally wary, unsure of how to proceed.

He took a deep breath that seemed impossibly loud,

"FBI!" He announced, holding his badge up and Abby followed suit, "Agents Kane and Griffin. We're looking for Thelonious Jaha."

If the complete and utter stillness of the crowd made them uneasy, the way they all turned their heads simultaneously to look at them was truly frightening. Their eyes were dead, no hint of expression on their faces, just as Murphy described it, and Abby struggled to keep the fear she felt from her own.

"Thelonious Jaha," Marcus repeated in a commanding tone, "He's the leader of this... _church_ , so where is he?"

Still there was silence until, from somewhere in the mass of bodies, a female voice called out,

"You shouldn't be here."

She wasn't recognisable to Abby, but it didn't matter; it was clear that the mob were all one and the same. It could have been any or all of them issuing the warning.

"If he's controlling them like this he can't be far," Abby murmured to Marcus, though she might as well not have bothered lowering her voice, she could be heard clearly in the silence. She raised her voice, managing to keep it steady, "Thelonious Jaha is under arrest." Perhaps if she could impress the seriousness of the situation on these people they might back down. "No one else need be involved."

That was when they started advancing. Slowly, together stride-by-stride, they moved towards them, and Abby instinctively backed away. She was loathe to give any ground, to show weakness, but despite the fact that she and Marcus were armed, a crowd this size could easily overpower them. Her heart was pounding, hands shaking with adrenaline as she reached for her gun, watching Marcus do the same whilst placing himself between her and the mob. Any other time she might be annoyed by his protectiveness, but she was afraid, vulnerable in a way she'd never felt before whilst holding her gun, keeping it trained on the threat.

"Everybody stop where they are!" Marcus was pointing his gun at them too - arms raised and shoulders squared, his body drawing on muscle memory and falling into the familiar pose - but still Jaha's followers continued to file out of the church, beginning to form a circle around them.

They couldn't allow themselves to be trapped.

Abby looked around wildly, as if she might suddenly spot Jaha lurking nearby, but perhaps proximity had nothing to do with whatever psychic abilities he seemed to possess that allowed him to control these people. It wasn't as if there were rules or guidelines for this kind of phenomenon, Abby thought with an edge of hysteria, and for a ridiculous moment she thought she might laugh; it was either that or panic and cry. No, she shut that down firmly. She would not lose her head here. What they _needed_ was a way to distract these people, or to somehow jolt them out of this trance...

Marcus' back was a solid wall of warmth against her own; defending her, keeping her safe, trusting her to do the same for him. As partners do. The only indication of his own fear was his breathing, quickened to her ears.

"If you have any ideas..." He muttered.

"Just one." Abby whispered back, then raised her weapon up above her head and fired three times.

The gunshots cracked loudly, ripping through the air and breaking the thrall over the crowd. Everyone present physically flinched, then stumbled, looking around wide-eyed as though lost and confused. The circle was beginning to disperse, the noise rising as people began to ask questions of those around them, but as no one was harmed Abby wasn't eager to hang around in case this was just a momentary interference. Jaha apparently wasn't here and it was the reprieve they needed, so she grasped blindly behind her for Marcus' arm.

"Come on," She tugged his arm and together they ran back to the gate, shooting glances behind them as they went, but no one was following.

They collapsed into the car, and for a moment neither of them could move or speak. Marcus locked the doors and the only sound was that of their heavy breathing as they caught their breath and struggled to come to terms with what had just happened. What _could_ have happened.

" _Fuck_ ," Marcus didn't swear that often, so she could tell he was shaken, "What the hell was that, Abby?"

"That was Jaha." She met his gaze and saw his questions coming, "No, I still don't know _how_. I just know we need to find him, _now_. We need Pike."

Marcus nodded in breathless agreement and started the engine.

* * *

Jaha Residence,Arkadia  
3:30pm

  
"Thelonious Jaha?" Abby shouted through the door, "FBI! Open up!"

The hallway leading to Jaha's apartment was crowded with law enforcement, and Marcus was a reassuring presence pressed in close behind her. Next to him, Pike and two other officers from his department, all waiting with their weapons drawn.

There was no answer from within and Abby caught Marcus' eye, jerking her head towards the closed door and moving out of the way to let him and Pike shoulder their way in. Pike was a broad, muscular man, whereas Marcus was more lean but still strong, Abby knew, and the door gave after one forceful shove from the two of them. Inside it was dark and still: no sign of life.

Slowly, creeping through with flash lights pointed down the barrels of their guns, they checked the rooms, then, finding nothing, Abby called out, "Lights coming on," and flipped on the living room lights. Just like his church, Jaha's apartment was sparse and undecorated. Both the small tv and the remote were covered with dust, looking like they hadn't been used for a long time. Abby took in the small, threadbare couch, the uncarpeted floors; wandered through the small (yet fastidiously clean) kitchen and bathroom and into the bedroom, where the unmade bed sheets were the only indication that anyone lived here at all.

There were no framed photographs, no mementoes of the family he'd lost. Abby remembered feeling sorry for him before, but after seeing with her own eyes what he'd done to Raven - the mania in the girl's eyes - and the complete lack of autonomy in everyone at the church, she no longer held any sympathy for him. What she couldn't figure out was _why_ he was doing any of this? Unless it was purely like Murphy had said: he revelled in feeling powerful. Did he really think he was leading them to some glorious new state of being in the "City of Light"? Would they all eventually be taken by the same beings he claimed abducted him?

Abby's head was spinning with it all; she wondered what - if any - conclusions Marcus had come to, he was the profiler of the two of them after all.

"He's a slippery bastard, isn't he?" Pike said, standing in the centre of the living room with his hands on his hips, "We'll have to put out an APB on him."

Marcus wandered over to them and shook his head, "No his church - his _mission_ \- is here." He glanced at Abby, "Whether he's delusional or not, he's committed to it, and they are to him. For all the wrong reasons, of course, but still."

"This is his home town," Abby put in, letting her thoughts follow the same pathways as her partner's, "This is where... _everything_ happened to him. This is where he lived with his family, where he was taken and returned to..." She frowned in thought, remembering the implant Jaha claimed was removed from the back of his neck and that he now wore around it on a chain, and walked back into the bathroom.

"Abby?" In the way Marcus spoke her name, she could hear all of his unspoken questions: _are you on to something? What are you thinking?_

She opened the bathroom cabinet, taking inventory, and knew quickly that her hunch had paid off. She scanned the labels on the orange pill bottles she pulled off the shelf; going by the date first issued there were, apparently, further medical consequences to what had happened to Jaha. She turned to Marcus, who had followed her, and rattled the pills at him,

"Tegretol. Prescribed to Jaha only a couple of weeks after his abduction and subsequent hospital visit. It's generally used to relieve seizures."

"Seizures..." Marcus mulled over the new information, "Epilepsy?"

Abby considered it, "This late in life there would have to be an underlying cause like a head injury or a neurological disease, or... _oh_."

She remembered a group of women, members of MUFON *, all of whom had developed cancer after being abducted. There had been something in the file about the removal of foreign objects found in the body...

"Oh?" Marcus prompted, "Oh, what?"

"A brain tumour," Abby said, her words coming fast now as the connections formed in her mind, "The growth of brain tumors has been linked with reported occurrences of psychic ability!"

"Abby..." Marcus sighed, "Those reports are completely unsubstantiated -"

"But _what if,_ Marcus!" She said excitedly, leaning in close to him, "What if I'm right? Wouldn't that perhaps explain _why_ he might be doing all of this?"

"How so?" He wasn't shooting her down anymore; she could see his curiosity had taken over and he was genuinely interested as to where this was going. 

"What if, around the time Maya died, the cancer had progressed past the point of treatment? What if he's dying? What if he literally has _nothing_ left to lose?"

"And he's pushing this thing as far as he can before that happens," Marcus had caught her train of thought, "He's testing the limits to what he can do."

"Going out in a blaze of glory," Abby confirmed, grimly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Mutual UFO Network, in case anyone was wondering.


End file.
